


A Welcome Break

by orphan_account



Series: The Messes We Make [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Belly Rubs, Burping, Desperation, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Eating, Farting, Holding, M/M, Master/Pet, Omorashi, Pet Play, Piss, Scat, Shit, Shit Eating, Urine, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 16:21:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4026700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce and Clark spend a weekend on the Kent farm. (aka, Clark makes Bruce act like a dog for two days.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so here is a run down for this fic so you're prepared. Chapter one is just set up with only mentions of scat. Chapter two is piss focused. Chapter three is shit/fart focused and chapter four is angst. So yeah, if any of that tickles your fancy, stick around. ;)

It always seemed to be late at night when he and Clark would talk. He would have just gotten back from patrol and Clark would be in his bed, waiting, and Bruce would burrow into the covers and Clark would dust his face in lazy kisses. If he was feeling particularly frisky, they would make love, but on this particular night, they didn’t. They just talked.

It wasn’t too mind blowing in content, just things like how their days had been, or if Lois was still holding it against Clark that he got her coffee order wrong once. After a while Clark started kissing Bruce’s neck, but Bruce made his ‘not tonight’ grumble, and Clark changed tact.

“Ma is going to visit her sister in Wichita this weekend, and she’s asked me to watch the farm for her whilst she's gone.” Bruce must have made a noise he wasn’t aware of because Clark soon continued. “You don’t have to come, I just thought I’d tell you. I’m gonna be gone this weekend.”

Bruce thought for a moment and turned his body, to get a better look at Clark. “Did you want me to come?”

Clark gave the faintest of shugs and Bruce knew the answer. “If you want.” 

Even though Bruce had a choice he knew the thing Clark wanted him to pick. He had a strange relationship with that farm. On one hand he had fond summer memories of he and Clark playing together as children, on the other hand he had more recent memories of when he had to milk a cow and it pissed on him. Clark thought it was hilarious but Bruce got his revenge by dumping the whole pail of milk on Clark’s head. Ma was not impressed, but Bruce felt a sense of victory. 

“I guess, as long as you do all the work.” Clark made a face. “I am not getting pissed on by a cow again.”

Clark smiled and brushed his nose against Bruce's. “What about if I was the one pissing on you?” Clark continued his gentle assault of kisses on Bruce’s neck and Bruce had to gently push him away. Misunderstanding, Clark pulled back, his face contorted into a grimace.

“Okay. Fine. I get it.” Before Clark could get into one of his speeches Bruce spoke.

“Clark I’ve been thrown of a building by Killer Croc tonight, I’m not in the mood because I’m exhausted not because of what you said.” Clark nodded once, his lips pressed. “Clark if I really wasn’t into” Bruce gestured at his stomach, and general crotch area. “I would let you know, okay?” Bruce softened his voice. “You need to stop thinking I’m put off by it…”

Clark gave a self deprecating laugh. “It’s hard though… I keep thinking each time your doing it just because I’m forcing you to, and not cause you know, you want to do it.”

A slow nod is all Bruce gave Clark as a response for a moment, before he spoke. “At first I did it just because you asked. I have to be honest Clark, farting on someone is not something at that point which I would have been turned on by.” Clark’s blush darkened. “Now however, I feel more…” A pause. “Enjoyment? I suppose is the best word. Seeing how aroused you get by it, it actually thrills me.”

Clark gave a tiny pout, and along with his flushed cheeks Bruce thought he looked adorable. “And you’re into the other stuff too?”

“The shit and piss you mean?”

A sharp nod.

“Clark if I wasn't I wouldn't have shit in a bin in my own office.”

Clark makes a frustrated noise. “But this is what I’m saying! I feel like, I dunno, like I pressured you into doing it? Like you felt like you didn't have a choice.”

“I always have a choice Clark. If I had told you to stop it, and meant it, you would have.”

“I know. I guess it’s cause I don’t know if it's going to far. You said you'd be willing to try more stuff, and I just sort of went guns blazing without really telling you what I was planning on.” 

He reached out with his hand to gently sweep the hair that had fallen in front of Clark's eyes. He really needed to tell him to stop with the puppy eyes. “I've told you. As long as you don't cause me any lasting physical harm or interrupt my work as Batman, I’m okay with anything.”

“So you really do like this stuff?” Clark repeated, like a child asking for confirmation if they can really have the last cookie. Like it was some sort of test.

Bruce's sighed heavily. “Yes Clark, I do.” Clark let his head rest on Bruce's chest. They sit in this uncomfortable silence, and Bruce realized it was because Clark was still unsure. He could even feel him worrying on his lip as his head was against his chest.

He knew he wasn’t good at expressing himself. Usually he’d just says yes or no to something and leave it at that, because his reasoning were his own. But Clark's not good at accepting that. Most of the arguments between them both has been about Bruce's lack of communication.

“It’s a strange experience.” He started, he tried to think of what to say, and let his hands run through Clark’s hair as he did. “The relief coupled with the sexual stimulation. It makes sense that the two would work together.” He let his mind run over the previous times he'd experienced it. When Clark fingered him when he was so full, he was sure he was going to burst. Or when Clark licked his reddened hole after he had had emptied himself on a Gotham rooftop. His mind hung on the last one particularly. He wanted Clark to keep going, his dick was still annoyed about him not continuing. Bruce gulped. “I want to do it again. Soon.” His cock seemed to give a small pulse at the idea, he was half erect and his mind kept whirling at the images in it. Bruce needed to remind it he was exhausted, and now was not the time. 

“Yeah?” Clark said lazily, he looked at him with half lidded eyes. The night time always made Clark more sleepy. Where as Bruce seemed to be on the boat that the day doesn't start until the evening. “If you came to the farm, we could do all sorts of stuff.” Bruce nodded slightly. “The whole farm to ourselves, no one around for hundreds of miles. We could do anything.”

The prospect both thrilled and terrified Bruce. He gave another gulp. “What did you have in mind.”

Clark's eyes were closed and Bruce thought he'd fallen asleep. Putting Clark on his chest seemed to do that. When Bruce had asked about it Clark just muttered ‘your heartbeat’ and dozed off soon after. Clark however wasn’t asleep as he soon spoke. “A lot of things.”

It made Bruce's heart jump. Something about those three words. It told him everything and yet nothing. Bruce tried to will himself to sleep so that the weekend would be here sooner.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is piss focused, with holding and pet play involved. Also eating, not stuffing or anything, but still people eating in a sexual context.

When his feet touched down on the farm, his stomach gave a lurch.

He didn't like being flown for extend periods of time by Clark. On a plane, he had no problem with it, but due to him being very much human, Clark couldn’t fly at his normal speeds with Bruce involved. He had to be very careful when doing anything with Bruce's body at super speed, as one wrong move and Bruce would get whiplash and several broken bones.

So he had to sit in Clark's arms as the cold air made his nose red, and the sound of wind bellowing in his ear made it impossible for him to listen to music, or talk with Clark.

Well he could talk to Clark, usually a grumble about being cold, but when Clark tried to say anything back, all Bruce heard was the whoosh of air. 

So when he finally landed, he looked at the ground like it was a long lost lover. 

Clark himself had already strode past him to the farm house. He was holding Bruce and his suitcases as well as a cake for Ma. Really Bruce should be more concerned with how strong Clark was, or how unaffected he seemed to be by most things, but really he knew Clark would never hurt him, and even if he did Clark knew about the small lead lined box Bruce carried around with him in case the worst should happen. 

Bruce made his way to the house at his own pace, letting his body temperature creep back up and get his legs used to movement again. By the time he got there Clark was already leaving again, holding a different set of suitcases. He gave Bruce a small wink before heading to his mother's car. 

“Bruce!” Bruce turned his head back just in time to be suffocated by a hug. Martha's hugs were legendary amongst the Batclan, with Dick always claiming to have a broken rib when visiting. Bruce would have done the same thing, but he noticed that without hugs, Martha resorted to lots of kisses and he would rather the spine realignment.

He felt his back click as Martha pulled away, her face pulled into a wide grin. “How you been, boy? Ain’t seen you both round here for a while. Y’all should really come visit more, and not just when I'm going away.” She winked at him and Clark was soon back next to him.

“Sorry Ma, we’ll try and come up more but we've been busy-”

She held her hand up to him. “I know, I know. Crime never rests and all that.” 

Clark rolled his eyes playfully and Bruce felt uncomfortable by it all. Despite both Clark and Martha’s efforts to include him in their family, it all sometimes became too much for him, and he wouldn’t know what to say or do. He offered a shy smile to Martha. “It’s good to see you Ma.” He found out early on that you will call Martha Kent, Ma, and if you even utter Martha near her you will get a swat against the head.

She giggled and hugged him again. “And you too Bruce! Golly, It’s a shame I can't hang around longer and chit chat but Brenda will kill me if a I'm late again.” She gave Bruce and Clark a kiss on the cheek before heading to her car. Clark followed dutifully and Bruce stayed on the porch watching them.

He could see them talking and Martha was smiling. She eventually put a finger to Clark’s lips and Clark seemed to hunch in on himself. She got in the car and offered them both a wave before driving off.

“What were you asking her?” He didn't need to know, but he felt the need to fill the silence. 

Clark seemed lost in thought as he came back up the porch steps. “Oh? I was just asking if she needed me to get her anything else before she left. Sometimes she forgets important things like her glasses, or medicine.” Bruce gives a small wince. Though Clark never mentions it, he is overly protective of his mother. After Jonathan died it was as if Clark and Martha switched places, and it was now Clark's job to care for her. She had to keep reminding him it was the other way and would be till she died, but if anything that just made Clark’s stance on it even stronger. 

When he walked into the house the Kent dining table was filled with food of every variety: mash, chicken, gravy, veg, fruit, and two pies all sat staring at Bruce. They all looked so unreal in their perfection. Martha used to joke that she was a cook not a chef and anything she made was meant to taste good first and look good second.

So Bruce often wondered what her food would look like if she did put appearance first. She could probably work at a Michelin-starred restaurant if she wanted. 

“Ma really went overboard… I better put some of this in the fringe before it spoils.” Clark started putting the pies away, and then turned back to Bruce. “You hungry? You wanna eat a little before I put it all away?”

“That depends.” Clark turned to put the chicken in the fringe. “What are we doing this weekend.” Clark stopped where he was with the fringe door open, it began to peep before Clark shoved the chicken in and closed the door.

He turned slowly. “What did you want to do this weekend?” Clark spoke carefully, and Bruce gave an exasperated sigh.

“Clark, I really don't have any suggestions to offer. I'm not exactly king of creativity here.” His mind instantly drifted to the names of all of his Batgear. 

Clark considered him for a moment before sitting down at the table. “Take a plate.” He instructed, Bruce went to the cabinet and pulled out a medium sized one, when he turned back Clark was shaking his head, and he tried not to show the shiver that went through his back when he went back in and pulled out a bigger one.

Bruce sat at the table and handed Clark the plate. Thankfully his plate got mostly filled with vegetables, buttered beans, sweet potato, corn and a small helping of meatloaf and mash. It’s a big meal, but he felt as though he could handle it. 

As he ate it Clark watched him with full intent. His elbows on the table, head resting in his hands. If Ma was here she would scold Clark for it. 

He ate slowly, taking his time with each bite, and Clark seemed totally mesmerized, seeming to take extreme interest in what Bruce decided to eat next. He tried to provoke a reaction, so when he finished , he added a little more food to his plate, and suppressed the smile when Clark crossed his legs. 

After the second portion, he leant back in his chair and rubbed his belly. Clark looked at it longingly. “Clark you can touch me you know.” He blinked and Clark was there his large hands rubbing gentle circles into his stomach. He's been fuller, Alfred's thanksgiving feasts were not something you could leave being only half full. No, you had to be bursting at the seams before you could call it a day.

Bruce burped whilst Clark rubbed and he could see Clark's cheeks colour. The jeans he was wearing were now sporting a tent. “You know, I'm very thirsty Kent.” With the same grace as a new born giraffe, Clark stumbled up and over to the fridge, pulling out a jug of iced tea. He poured a pint sized glass for Bruce, and when he gave it to him he drunk slowly.

They sat for 10 minutes like that. Bruce drinking and Clark rubbing. Occasionally more burps would leave Bruce, and Bruce was certain if Clark's hands weren't on his stomach one would be on his dick. Bruce himself wasn't feeling aroused, just content and happy. He mentioned being a bit tired, and Clark carried him off to the sofa. They watched TV and when Bruce’s glass was empty, Clark asked if he would like another glass. Bruce nodded and as if my magic the glass was filled again. Bruce kept on sipping, and then Clark mentioned needing to do some chores.

“Nothing too major, Ma would have done a lot of it before she left, but I still gotta milk the cows, water the plants, and check on the chickens.” Bruce looked at the TV and back at Clark. They had been watching a movie, but it had ended. 

“Did you want me to help?” Clark gave a nod, but he also bit on his lip. Bruce looked at him and took another sip. “What did you want me to do?”

Clark wiggled in place, his erection had gone down, but Bruce still knew a horny Clark when he saw one. His hands were in fists on his thighs and Bruce took another sip, this time letting a dribble of liquid run down his chin. “I want you to be naked.” Clark burst out suddenly.

Bruce nodded and put the glass onto the coffee table. He began to strip, but not in a way to purposefully turn him on. He's done strip teases before for Clark, slow and sensual. Clark for some reason didn’t respond to it as well as when Bruce just started getting naked. Maybe it was the naturalness of it, or perhaps how flippant Bruce seemed but either way, Clark preferred it.

When he was down to his underwear he gave a look to Clark who nodded sharply, they were gone as well and Bruce regarded his own semi hard dick as he removed the underwear from his legs and placed them on top of the pile of folded clothes. 

Clark stared at his dick for a few seconds before bursting out again. “But there’s more to it.” He's gone for a second, and when he returned he was standing with his hands behind his back. Bruce tried to shift subtly to see what it was, but Clark shifted away.

“It’s a collar.” Bruce craned an eyebrow. “And some ears. And a tail.” Bruce looked confused before Clark pulled it all out from behind him. A pretty pink collar laid in his hands, along with a bushy tail, and a set of small black dog ears. Bruce looked at them clinically, as though they were surgical tools, but then he looked at Clark and his groin seemed to pool with blood.

His face was so pink it was extraordinary. His lips looked red and swollen from how much he'd been biting them, and his hair was mussed from probably having played with it out of nervousness. Bruce pretended to be debating it, when in reality his mind was already made up. He didn't speak, just climbed onto the couch, sat on his knees and stuck his ass towards Clark.

A warm finger was in him, working at him, and Bruce moaned. “Fuck Clark.”

“Not yet.” Was Clark's far too held together response. He kept working that finger, and added another one and Bruce was getting way too turned on for someone whose only foreplay to that point had been a nice meal and a movie. The tail gets pushed into him slowly, and Bruce arches his back to try and force it deeper. It’s a butt plug, a tad larger than the ones Bruce was used to, but right then, anything in his ass felt good. The rest got put on him with Clark’s gentle touch, the collar, then the ears. The ears were just a fuzzy pair attached to a head band. But when Bruce got up and looked at himself in the mirror, he felt a thrill shoot through him.

“You look amazing.” Came Clark’s breathy voice. 

Bruce gave a soft chuckle. “You sure you're going to be able to work with me looking like this?” 

Clark actually looked concerned for a second, before letting a passive mask fall over his features. In a blink of an eye, Clark was in the living room in his overalls and farming gear and he made his way to the door. “Come on Brucie!” Clark called cheerfully, and Bruce blushed hard as he walked over to the door. 

The Smallville sun felt good on his skin, and he shivered more from the strange sensation of being naked in such an open space rather than the cold. Clark walked across the dirt, and Bruce reluctantly steps onto the dirt ground after him. Clark laughed. “Aww, Brucie, don't you worry boy. I’m gonna clean you up after.” Clark was being far too chipper and in control. Bruce was practically hard as steel and with each step the plug in him shifted and grazed his prostate. By the time he got to Clark who was by the vegetable fields, his cock was weeping. 

Clark looked at it for a moment, and Bruce thought he saw a flicker of desire there, but it's soon gone and Clark is smiling again. He didn’t say anything as he worked, getting the hose out and working on watering everything. Bruce watched and soon the sun and heat got to him and he laid down on the ground. In the past, the idea of being naked on the ground where there has probably been feces, worms and ants would have been enough to make him run. But apparently for Clark, he didn't mind getting dirty. 

He actually ends up falling asleep and is woken up to Clark gently rubbing his stomach. “You have a good nap?” He cooed, and Bruce opened his mouth to speak, but before he could Clark gave him a pointed look. He nodded and Clark smiled. 

Clark didn't specify, but if dogs couldn’t talk it makes sense that Bruce wouldn’t. When he tried to get up however one thing became painfully obvious to him, that being his bladder was getting very full. Clark seemed to not be paying attention as he was already walking to the barn. Bruce scrambled into a standing position and walked after him.

The plug was still shifting and rubbing, but now Bruce had to deal with a full bladder as well. He could handle it. On a scale of one to ten he was a comfortable seven. But he didn't really know what Clark had in mind for him, and Bruce was excited to find out.

When he got to the barn, Bruce regarded the floor with mild disgust. It was covered in a brown film, and small piles of feces were around. The cows mooed at him as he entered, and Clark had already pulled one out and started milking it. Clark was sitting on a stool as he worked, and whilst Bruce didn't want to let any other part of his body other than his feet touch the floor he conceded eventually and sat on the floor next to Clark.

A more primal part of his brain made Bruce start rocking on the spot, letting the plug move and graze his insides. Occasionally, his prostate would get hit and Bruce would gasp in surprise and want. Clark looked at him out the corner of his eyes, and like a child being caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Bruce stopped and let himself look embarrassed. He sat patiently as Clark put own cow back and reached for another. After five Bruce was rocking again, but not because of the plug. His bladder went from seven to a nine in almost an instant and Bruce squirmed more. Clark looked at him again, but it was so brief Bruce whined.

Clark stopped what he was doing to give Bruce his full attention and Bruce realised he needed to mime. 

Bruce knew sign language as did Clark, but Bruce doubted Clark would appreciate if Bruce signed ‘I need to piss.’ Bruce instead opted for using his hands to hold his crotch and whimper.

Clark's eyes widened a fraction and he nodded. “You need to pee boy?” Bruce nodded furiously. Clark himself gave another nod. “Okay. But I still gotta milk Betty and Dawn.” Bruce faltered and let his hands go to Clark’s thigh. Clark looked at him again. “You're just gonna have to hold it.” Bruce squirmed some more, but realised it was better to just let Clark keep working than to distract him. Thankfully Clark seemed to be working slightly quicker than he had been.

Bruce doesn't know what kind of faces was pulling or just how much he was moving, because at that moment all he knew was the burn of his bladder. With each minute he kept thinking, this would be it. At one point it got too much for him and he dribbled, he couldn't help the small whimper he gave as he tried to hold it back. He used one hand to hold himself at the base of his cock and the other the tip. But then the feeling would be back again, if anything more intense at having felt that blissful second relief. His hands stayed around his dick. He tried not to move even as his legs seemed to fall asleep, as now each jolt seemed to slosh the contest of his bladder and he would be forced to strain to hold it.

He didn’t even notice when Clark got up, too wrapped up in his own desperation. “I'm stiff as a board!” Clark clicked his back. “Alrighty then, time to go pee!” Bruce got up on wobbly legs and he kept his hands on his crotch at all times. He had to stop at points unless his bladder muscles gave up entirely, he eventually got to Clark who was waiting for him by the barn door. “You're really desperate ain't ya? But you been good and didn't pee all over the floor.” Clark affectionately tousled Bruce's hair. “Okay boy, you can go.” Clark gave a minor gesture to the outside wall of the barn and Bruce gave him a slightly panicked look. Clark offered nothing more and just stood and crossed his arms. Bruce managed to get to said wall with only a few more dribbles. He’s about to go when he heard Clark’s laugh. “That’s a funny way for a dog to pee.” 

It’s not a command, or a suggestion. But Bruce knew what Clark meant. He lowered himself to the floor slowly, getting onto his hands and knees. With his hands away from his dick, and gravity being a bitch, his cock was leaking against Bruce’s will, he tried to hold it back but it kept spouting. His urethra seemed to have given up on him. He looked over to Clark who gave a small nod, so tiny that Bruce isn’t even sure he did it. He lifted one of his legs up and let it rest against the barn wall before-

The fact his cock was already leaking heavily meant he didn't even realise he was pissing until he heard the piss hitting the floor. He moaned as the strain was taken off his bladder, he tried to push it out faster, the relief he was feeling not being enough. He needed more. He could hear Clark moving up next to him, and soon the plug in him was being shifted and moved, and Bruce jumped. His erect dick was not helping him empty his bladder, the strain now on his dick and the movement in his ass meant his steam had died down considerably and Bruce was still so full, he wanted to tell Clark to stop but it felt too good to. The puddle was already touching his hands and knees and he could feel the ground under him go softer. He dug his fingers into the earth as Clark worked the plug more. He still had so much piss in him though, and he shook his ass in a quick jerk and Clark stopped. He was still there, looking and Bruce kept on going, his team picking up again.

He let out another sigh and arched his back as the urine rushed from him. The farm was so quiet that all Bruce could hear was the sound of piss hitting the saturated ground. Clark didn’t touch his plug again but he did start to rub Bruce's back. Bruce whimpered at the touch and when he finally felt his stream die he whined and looked at Clark. Clark smiled at him, but got up. The stream stopped fully and Bruce was left relieved but hard. He whined at Clark again, who in turn just whistled as he walked away towards the chicken coop. Bruce got up after him, the urine on his hands and knees making him cold. He hurried after him but Clark stopped him from going in. “The chickens get startled by dogs, so you just wait out here okay?” Bruce in a moment of clarity wanted to snort but stopped himself and just looked through the small window leading into the chicken coop when Clark entered.

The room was large and bustling with chickens, Clark instead of walking through them opted to float over them. It was strange seeing Clark using his superhuman abilities for something so mundane as getting eggs from chickens. However because of it, it took him next to no time to finish the task, and soon Clark was back out holding a basket full of eggs. “Girls laid a lot. Better box em up.” The Kent’s didn't sell a lot of their products. When Jonathan was there to help Ma, it was easier to produce more that they needed and therefore they could sell the excess. However when it was just Martha, she struggled to maintain the farm at full capacity and they had to sell a few of the cows and chickens and all of the horses and sheep. Clark was most upset about the horses. He said he would make more of an effort to help out, but Martha stopped him, saying ‘you need to focus on your own life, and not keep worrying about mine.’

When they got back to the house, Clark chucked off his clothes until he was in his underwear. “I think we could both use a bath.” Bruce nodded again and soon Clark was lifting him into his arms and taking him to the bathroom. 

The bath was filling, and Clark let Bruce down as he got some bubble bath and other things out. Bruce again had to resist snorting at the absurdity of it, but then Clark was getting into the water and ushering Bruce in as well, and Bruce’s muscles relaxed as he let the water and the smells envelop him. Clark ran soothing hands along his back and when he got to his ass Bruce grinded up against him. He lapped at Clark’s neck with his tongue. Bruce could feel Clark's own erection, and used one hand to guide the two together and rub them as he continued to kiss and suck at the expanse that was Clark's collar bone.

He could see him trying to hold it together as his hands rested on the sides of the tub, he was trying to hold still as Bruce worked but he could see the resolve break. 

“That’s it.” 

Clark got up suddenly and a wave of water washed over Bruce he sputtered but then he was in strong arms, and then warm sheets. They were getting the bed wet and soapy, but right then Clark's mouth was on his and he really couldn't care less. “God damn Bruce, you were so hot, seeing you in the barn, God I don't know how I milked those fucking cows.” He sucked hickeys into Bruce's neck and his hand on Clark's head tightened. “And then when you were pissing on the barn, God I just-” 

The plug was out Bruce realised belatedly. He didn’t know when it left and Clark's finger replaced it but he eventually did notice and moaned as Clark worked him. He also realised that there was now a puddle of lube on his stomach and Bruce would be more annoyed if he wasn't already dirty, wet and soapy. Clark was alternating between touching Bruce's dick and his own. When Clark’s hand left him he wriggled and panted until Clark conceded and put it back. Bruce felt greedy as he was worked both ways, and he looked at Clark, whose attention was solely on him.

Clark turned him over and lined up his cock with Bruce's waiting asshole. When he entered it was slow and tortuous and Bruce tried to push back and meet him, but Clark held him steady. “Clark for fucks sake fuck me!” He’s too far gone to care about anything other than the feeling in his ass. Clark stopped his movements, and at first Bruce thought he was waiting for Bruce to get comfortable but then he realised. He spoke. 

“Please, please Clark. I’m sorry, I need it. Please.” He doesn't know what to say to get Clark to move, but apparently that wasn't it either as Clark still remained stationary.

“I’ll have to punish you later for that, cause right now-” Clark held still for another few torturous seconds before he pulled back and thrust forward. “I need to cum in you needy little ass.” Bruce gave a yes, and Clark found his nipples and pinched them hard in his fingers. Bruce tried to keep his noises to a minimum, tried to just make general moans, but God was it hard.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” Clark kept plowing into him and Bruce had to bite on a pillow when he felt himself climax. Clark pulled out roughly and Bruce noticed Clark was moving him with little difficulty. His mouth was soon by his cock, and Bruce looked up at Clark. He could see his hand working frantically on himself. “Open wide.” Bruce did as he was told.

Clark’s aim was slightly off, as it did not go into his mouth and instead hit Bruce square in the eye. Luckily Bruce's eyes half closed, but it also meant he was taken slightly off guard when the second load did land in his mouth. He unintentionally spat it out of his mouth and looked up at Clark with his one eye, frowning. Jizz was dripping from the corners of his mouth and down along his left eye and cheek, and Clark actually had the gall to laugh.

“Awww, Bruce I’m sorry.” He looked around in his bed side cabinet and pulled out a packet of tissues. He doesn't say anything as he cleaned Bruce's eye. Bruce to help with the clean up, licked around his lips to collect the cum that he didn't manage to swallow. After Bruce was less sticky, Clark began removing the collar and ears (which at this point were already halfway off his head). Bruce stretched his body.

“Well that was fun.” He said, as he smirked at Clark. Clark himself seemed taken aback.

“You think so? I didn't go too overboard did I? I really thought you were gonna hurt yourself holding it-” Bruce swatted Clark. 

“I’m fine. If I really couldn't have held it I would have just gone Clark.” He moved the hand from Clark’s hair down to his cheek. “I know my body's limits. As do you.” If there was one thing Bruce would say about having Superman for a boyfriend it was that anytime Bruce needed an x-ray, he could just have Clark give him a once over. Sadly it also meant Bruce couldn’t use ‘I need to use the restroom’ as an excuse for leaving Clark to deal with annoying guests at charity galas.

Clark frowned. “I know. I know.” Clark went to kiss Bruce and made a face. “Didn't quite get all of it.” He pulled out another tissue and wiped his face all over again. Bruce smiled at him.

“So was that my punishment? Cumming in my eye?” Bruce asked jovially, when Clark didn’t laugh back and instead only gave a very small smile. Bruce sobered.

“Nah, I've got a plan. But I’m gonna do it tomorrow.” Clark kissed his nose. “No bathroom unless I say so until tomorrow.” Bruce nodded, but feels his bladder already filling up again rapidly.

“What if I really need to pee?”

Clark looked back up from Bruce's mouth. “Oh you can pee, just no going two.” Bruce nodded again, and looked down at his abdomen.

“Anyway, we’ve still gotta go have dinner. I for one am starving.”

At the diner table, again Clark piled Bruce's plate with veggies. He had to reheat it all, as Clark must have put the remaining food into the fringe when Bruce wasn't paying attention. This time instead of meatloaf Clark gave Bruce two chicken legs and again Bruce started eating. Clark practically inhaled two plates of food piled high with everything Martha had left. The only thing missing from the plate was the pie. When he finished his second plate, he looked at Bruce's own empty plate. He had finished and was wondering if he should eat more. “I was gonna start on the pie if you wanted some.” Bruce nodded, and Clark got up, cutting two large pieces of pie, and smothering them both in ice cream. When Bruce took his first bite, the richness of it instantly overwhelmed him. Margarine did not exist in Martha's mind, and the buttery pastry clung to his palate.

Luckily the apples were tart and sweet, cutting through the richness, but still Bruce had to fight to get every sickly sweet bite down. When he hit the halfway point, he physically couldn’t stomach anymore and pushed the bowl over to Clark, who continued eating it with gusto. 

When they were done, Bruce looked like a stuffed turkey, and he eyed Clark with disdain. He still looked amazing. He had no hint of a belly on him, even after having eaten over twice the amount as Bruce, and was still going. Once Bruce’s plate was finished he reached for another piece and Bruce couldn’t hide the look of concern. Clark just shrugged and put another scoop of ice cream on his plate.

Eventually Clark did stop eating, but the empty table in front of Bruce really made him wonder about Clark’s stomach. Clark started cleaning plates and Bruce dried them and put them away when they were handed to him. Martha called a few minutes after they were finished and inquired to their day and Bruce sat in the living room as Clark spoke. He was careful not to lie, Martha was like a machine in her ability to sense when Clark was being dishonest and the last thing Bruce wanted was for their activities to be made clear to Martha. 

“Yeah Ma, we’re fine here. Bruce helped me do the chores and we've just had dinner. We’re probably gonna watch a movie then go to bed.” 

Bruce eyed the clock. It was still far too early for him. His usual bed time was 3am. Going to bed at 10 was not something he liked or wanted. He'd have to read whilst Clark slept because if he was to go to bed that early he would be screwed when he was back to 4 hours of sleep in Gotham. 

“Yeah Ma, love you too. Bye bye.” Clark hung up and made his way into the living room. “Golly, she just wouldn't stop asking what we did today. It's like she knew…” Clark flopped down next to him. “What we watching?” Bruce shrugged, he really had no idea what he had put on and he just watched the images flicker on the screen, letting his eye blur. Clark didn't seem to mind whatever it was as he did not change the channel. Bruce put his head against Clark’s shoulder, and maybe it was his body finally taking advantage of being able to sleep or he really was that exhausted. He slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter focuses on scat and farting, and I mean really focuses on it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter is very focused on holding, and scat, with a load of farting. You have been warned. ;)

When Bruce woke up it was to a warm embrace, and a harsh beam of sunlight in his eyes. He groaned and tried to hide his face in the warm body next to him, said warm body gave a breathy laugh and pulled Bruce close. Whilst Bruce didn't go back to sleep he did relish the warmth and feel of it all. He could never enjoy this in Gotham, sleep was just a chore he had to do. But right then, it felt like the best thing he’d done in a long time.

Clark got up a while later leaving Bruce to deal with the bar of sunlight that seemed intent on blinding him. He tried to burrow away but Clark opened the blinds fully giving Bruce no chance of escape. He still chose to stay in bed for a while longer, grumbling whilst he did. Eventually he could smell bacon and hear the sound of the radio being played from the kitchen and he reluctantly stood up. 

When he did, the weight in his gut shifted with gravity and Bruce felt a very keen need to use the bathroom. He had started walking down the hallway towards it when Clark was in front of him. “Remember, no going two okay?” He doesn't leave at super speed, leaning in to kiss Bruce's cheek before going back down stairs. Bruce looked after him confused before last night's commands came back to him. 

'Oh you can pee, just no going two.'

Bruce went into the bathroom, and tried to ignore the heavy feeling in his ass as he pissed into the bowl. His bladder seemed happy that it was getting let off easy today. He finished up and washed his hands. In the kitchen Clark was humming and frying at the hob. Bruce sat down on the table, and grabbed the bowl of fruit salad Clark had left for him. “You want bacon, hun?” Bruce gave a negative grunt and kept eating his fruit. “You sure? It’s delicious.” Clark himself sat at the table with two bacon sandwiches, Bruce shook his head again and Clark shrugged as he dug into his breakfast. “It’s gonna be a long day today, gotta do a lot more things as Ma ain't around to do em. Probably gonna start with the animals first and then water the fields.” Bruce was only half paying attention as he ate his fruit, and sipped on the mug of coffee Clark had left for him. “Then I gotta tend to my private field.” 

Bruce looked up at this. “Private field?” 

Clark did his best innocent face as he looked back up to Bruce. “Ma doesn't know about it, but I grow some things out in the field by the old horse stables. Ma doesn't go there anymore so I can tend to it without her butting in.” Clark finished his first sandwich and was onto the second one. “I fly out here every day to water it and weed it, and then I fly back.” Bruce can understand the need for privacy, Martha was very controlling over crops, and would always complain when she came back from weekends away saying that they were starting to wilt, or that they've been over watered. 

“What are you growing this year?” Bruce asked.

 

Clark pointed at the bowl that Bruce was currently eating from, it had strawberries, raspberries and grapefruit in it. “Strawberries.” Bruce nodded. “I know you love em, so I thought I’d grow some this year. Last year I tried to do tomatoes but the blight got em, and they got ruined.” Clark shrugged. “It wasn't that big of a deal, I do it more for fun than to get anything from it.” 

After they were finished, Clark washed up and told Bruce to get ready. Bruce assumed that meant to get naked, and he was correct as when Clark entered the living room holding the collar, ears and tail from yesterday he smiled at him. 

Bruce got into position on the couch, but unlike yesterday he wasn't exactly keen for it. His ass felt full and heavy and when Clark pushed a finger into him Bruce had to fart to help alleviate the pressure. Clark’s finger halted in him when the gas came, and Bruce made a face when he could smell what had just left him, Clark pushed the finger even further and another fart rumbled from him. “Fuck…” Clark seemed to work quickly as he fingered Bruce shallowly and slipped the plug in. Bruce gave another fart but the plug started to slip out. “You’re pushing the plug out.” Bruce could already feel his gut expanding with the now trapped gas. He tried to push again and the gas bubbled around the plug without pushing it out fully. “Bruce.” Clark’s hand was on his ass and Bruce has no choice but to grumble into the sofa cushion. “If you keep farting, that plugs gonna come out, and if that plug comes out I'm not gonna be happy.” Bruce grimaced as he could feel his gut gurgling, he could feel tiny bits of gas leaving him through the space between the plug and his stretched asshole, but he couldn’t get any relief from it, not without the plug coming out. 

Clarke slapped his ass lightly. “Come on, I gotta feed the cows.” Bruce got up and the shift caused another bubble of gas to squeeze itself out, Clark gave him a pointed look and Bruce couldn’t help but blush. Clark could hear everything, no matter how sneaky he thought he was being he knew Clark was aware of it all. He tried to clench around the butt plug, but it was hard, the movement combined with his asshole being open meant the gas was trying to come out. 

Clark had just warned Bruce not to fart, he had not outright banned it. Bruce gave another small push but he could feel the plug shift. He clenched tightly. Farting was a non option whilst he walked. Gravity, combined with his slippery ass meant that even the faintest push would result in disaster. He gave possibly the stupidest looking run as he caught up with Clark. The barn was much filthier than it had been yesterday. The cows were roaming, and one seemingly in an effort to piss of Bruce, shit right in front of him. Bruce looked away, trying to tell himself it was from embarrassment, but he couldn’t ignore the way his ass twitched. 

He walked into the barn and sat by the stool Clark had been milking from yesterday as Clark started cleaning up the piles of manure and replenishing the bales of hay. Bruce listened as Clark whittled on about farm activities. He tried to move around and get comfy but not matter where he moved he could feel the plug move and slip. Eventually he found if he squatted he was able to wedge the plug between the ground and his ass and the plug couldn't slip out. With that knowledge he bared down on the plug and a loud wet fart left him. He heard Clark stop shoveling and he knew he was being watched but he didn't care as he felt another bubble erupt from him.

Clark didn't say anything, and Bruce kept giving off farts when the pressure go too much. The position was hell on his thighs and calves and Bruce made a move to hold the plug in place so he could get more comfortable.

“Uh uh uh, no touching the plug. Your lucky I'm even letting you do what you're doing, so don’t push me.” Clark spoke firmly and Bruce retracted his hand guilty and watched as Clark got back to work. His calves were close to giving up so he had to change position anyway. He had to be careful though.

Bruce looked around on the floor, it was covered in filth and Bruce had to brace himself as he changed position. 

He rested his cheek along the dirty floor and tried not to breath in the stench of manure too deeply. He lay down on the floor and brought his knees up and stuck his ass high into the air. He hoped this position would help keep the plug in him, and whilst he did feel the plug move as he farted again, thanks to gravity it slid back into his hole.

Clark was onto milking and hadn't spoken to Bruce since he scolded him. Bruce kept switching between squatting on the plug and pushing his ass into the air. There would be minutes were the gas didn't come, and Bruce could just sit and relax despite the heaviness in him. After the cows had all been milked Clark got up and tapped Bruce before whistling the tune which had been playing on the radio that morning and leaving the barn. 

Without thinking Bruce pushed out a fart as he got up, the plug slipped precariously out of his ass, and Bruce slammed his asshole against the floor. The plug drove into him, and Bruce groaned at the feeling. It had not gone past the widened edge, but Bruce's asshole was strained as he had to keep the sudden wave of pressure at bay. He brought himself up ever so slightly and tried to push the plug back into a more comfortable position. When he got up this time he kept his sphincter tight and walked with the kind of practiced precision that a man wearing a pair of dog ears and collar should not have been exhibiting. 

Clark was waiting for him by the barn door and he gave Bruce the biggest ‘I told you so’ face. When they got to the coop, Clark again told Bruce to wait outside. Bruce took this opportunity to press his back against the coop’s outer wall. He pushed his ass more against it, and again found the plug was secure within him. He felt the gas bubble from him, but then the plug shifted. 

The coffee was starting to kick in. He tried to clench, but his gut was cramping and Bruce went back to squatting on the ground. He could feel the load in his shifting to wait by the plug. He tried to clench, to try and make it retreat, but the plug prevented that from happening. He whimpered again.

When Clark was back beside him, Bruce looked up at him painfully. Clark held the basket in his arms as he smiled down at Bruce. “You gotta go boy?” Bruce nodded frantically. “Once I’ve tended the fields and my private one you can go, okay?” Bruce gawped at the idea of holding it any longer, but Clark gave him a look to say this wasn't up for discussion.

Walking now became next to impossible. It was the damn plug. If it wasn't so lubed up, or even if it wasn't there at all Bruce could clench and the log in him would be kept at bay. But as it was it just felt like Bruce was on the verge of shitting himself wherever he went. He had to stop when he was about halfway to the fields. Clark thankfully picked him up and carried him the rest of the way, using one of his hands to hold the plug in Bruce. For a minute, Bruce could relax his muscles as he let Clark deal with it all. But then he was on the ground again and Clark was gone. He lay on his back at first, arching it to try and give the plug some purchase. Farts still billowed from him regularly, but now sound was wet on his ears, and Bruce kept squirming at it.

Unlike yesterday Clark seemed to water the fields at super speed. Bruce watched him as the blur that was Clark moved and a trail of water from a hose fell behind him. He watched Clark as he moved through the air, hoping it would distract him from his own discomfort. Clark landed next to Bruce's lying body and Bruce could see he was a little frazzled. Maybe he was realising giving Bruce coffee before this was not the best of ideas. Clark didn’t even ask Bruce to get up as he was in Clark’s arms and the two were floating lazily across the farm grounds. Again Clark took the strain from him and Bruce watched the farm shift and change as they went by. 

When they hit the woods on the outer edge of the farm Clark drifted into it. Bruce remembered when he was younger and Clark dragged him out here, to the horses, and the two would ride all day in the warm sun. When he finally saw the stables he actually winced at how run down they looked. The paint on the wood had chipped and a storm must have hit Smallville at some point as there was a small tree laying on the roof. Clark gave the stables a wide berth as he moved around it. They kept going and when they entered a small clearing Bruce noticed the very small square patch of dirt in the middle of it. It wasn't large, definitely not as large as the fields on the main farm, but it was roughly two square meters. Clark set Bruce down and Bruce watched as he sat down on the ground with him.

“So I have an idea on how to make these strawberries the best strawberries ever.” Bruce's gave a tiny nod. “You know how we use the mature from the cows on the fields to fertilize the crops?” Another nod. “Well I wanna do something similar. “ Suddenly it clicked for Bruce. “I wanna use your shit to fertilize my plants.” Bruce gave him a perturbed look before turning his attention to the square in front of him, and then back at Clark.

“I was gonna let you off easy, let you go in a bucket and I’d just work with it from there. But don't think I didn't notice the plug came out of you.” Bruce opened his mouth to protest. “It came out. You got it back in, but it did come out.” Bruce grumbled again, and looked at the square of dirt like it had offended him. “So, what you’re gonna do instead is, squat over the dirt, pitch off a bit of shit.” Bruce let his mouth drop at this. “Then i’ll work it into the ground and then we go onto the next bit.” Clark makes a move to get up. “Don't push out too much in one go now. I know you got more than enough to do this entire plot and I don't want it uneven.” Clark moved to the corner of the plot and ushered Bruce to follow. He stayed on his hands as knees and crawled. Standing up would put all of the strain on his asshole, and he wasn’t sure if he could hold it back anymore. 

When he got there and squatted he tried to keep his breathing even as he felt Clark pull the plug out slowly, he could feel the shit in him move along with it and when the plug got pulled out fully Bruce had to use every ounce of willpower he had to stop himself from unloading it all then and there. “Good see. Just like that.” Clark said from beside him. He looked down to see the small turd on the ground. Clark’s hand was soon on it, rubbing it into the dirt and Bruce could feel his asshole pucker. He whimpered as Clark made sure that area was fully seen to.

The next few went much the same, Bruce let his muscles loosen and quickly clench them again, using his asshole to cut the shit up in him. The load was soft and pliable Bruce noticed as Clark worked it easily into the ground. As he continued though, Bruce was finding it harder to keep cutting himself off. The feeling was so good when the shit was poking out of his ass, but then he would have to stop himself. At one point, he didn't clench when he should off, and Clark slapped him hard on the ass. Bruce yelped and his muscles seized, cutting the shit off. Clark tutted. “Now I'm gonna have to spread this one out more. You're gonna have to hold it in longer now.” Bruce whined. “It’s your own fault.” True to his word, Clark spread the shit, but this time did it more methodically. Bruce's thighs and calves burned as he held position and his poor asshole kept opening before Bruce has to force it closed. 

Thankfully Bruce got ushered on, and as if to prevent any more accidents, Clark slapped his ass during each shit. Bruce kept his eyes closed as he went and when the slap came the surprise would stop him from unloading. Still the strain of it was taking its toll on Bruce and by the final row, he was flagging. He still had a lot of shit in him, and he looked at Clark whilst he panted heavily from the effort. Clark’s erection poked from his overalls. He watched it as he took another dump on the ground, again he kept it going longer than he should have and Clark slapped him in a movement Bruce didn't even see. He let out an ow, before letting Clark work the shit. 

When they were finished, Bruce looked over the square patch with intrigue, he still had to go, but with a bit of his load out he could hold it in much better than he was. His ass felt red and raw from where Clark as spanked him, and his poor little asshole felt much the same. He sat with his ass directly on the ground. The grass was cool and slightly damp, and it felt welcome on his burning ass.

Clark went around putting the seeds into the ground and watering the plot. When he got back to Bruce he smiled. “Awesome! Now because you were a good boy, I'm gonna let you shit.” Bruce can feel his gut getting ready. “But first I'm famished so we’re gonna eat some lunch.” Clark was already moving away and Bruce tried to stop him. “Oh wait, I almost forgot.” Clark moved to the edge of the plot and picked up Bruce's tail. He could feel his raw ass protest at the feeling of the plug going in. The lube on the plug must have dried and the only thing to help it go in was the shit that coated Bruce’s asshole still. He gave a whine as Clark patted his back and got up again. This time the walk back was more bearable, but his guts still felt ready to drop at any minute. Without Clark carrying him, the walk took 10 minutes to complete. By the time they got to the house, he was so tired he almost walked in, but Clark's arm was in front of him. “You’re fifthly, I ain’t letting you come in the house like that. Wait outside whilst I bring you something.” Bruce obediently sat on the porch. He had to sit with his ass in the air as he waited for Clark, like he had in the barn. He lazily moved it from side to side, wishing for a cold breeze to come.

When Clark returned with a bowl, and a plate and set the bowl in front of Bruce. Bruce looked up at him. Food was the last thing on his mind. “Dig in.” Clark himself sat on the bench on the porch, and began eating one of his large sandwiches. Bruce looked into the bowl of mash and gravy with cut up pieces of string beans on top. He moved his head forward and started lapping at the food. It was messy, and the bowls deepness meant he had to really shove his face in to get to the food. He could feel the gravy dribbling down his forehead when he sat up slightly to breath. When he finished, Clark put another plate in front of him and Bruce nudged the bowl away with his face. “You’ve had a long day, you need to keep your energy up.” Bruce grumbled but lapped again at the food. This time it was sweet potato mixed with small pieces of chicken, and carrots. He took each bite and chewed it. When that bowl was done as well Bruce burped. Clark set down a bowl of juice in front of Bruce next. He tried to sip it as best he could from his angle, but at one point it went straight up his nose and Bruce sneezed. 

“Okay then, well I think it's time I cleaned you up.” Bruce moved to get up, but Clark's held up his hand. He went back into the house and returned with a bucket and sponge. “You are covered in dirt, gotta clean you a little before I let you have a bath.” Bruce farted as the pressure in his gut increased, he also hoped that the sound would remain Clark he still very much needed to shit. But no, he just eased the plug out of him and wiped Bruce slowly before plugging him back up. He then used a sponge and soapy water on the rest of his body.

Thankfully the water was warm, but the breeze which he had wished for earlier was making the water on his skin feel like ice. He started to shiver and Clark's eyes widened. Immediately Bruce was wrapped in one of the biggest, fuzziest towels he’d ever witnessed and Clack said something about cleaning the rest off in the bath. 

Being back inside in the warmth of the Kent home made him realise just how tried he was. Clark thankfully didn't make him walk, carrying him up the stairs and into the bathroom. The bath was already filled with water, and Clark used his heat vision to bring it back up in temperature. It was just right on his skin when he was eased into the water. Clark didn't get into the water with him but he did wash him. Bruce lay there letting Clark's hands run all over his body, once cleaned Clark brought Bruce out of the water and dried him with another towel. “You were so good today. I'm proud of you.” The words made Bruce blush at their sincerity. “As at treat I'm gonna let you go in the toilet.” Clark was taking off Bruce's things and the made his way to the door.

“Wait!” Clark held by the door, and Bruce looked at him. “You can watch Kent. You don’t have to leave.” Bruce could see Clark was trying to hide his excitement as he put the things on the floor and sat by the toilet, waiting for Bruce to take his place on the throne. 

Bruce knew Clark could watch him when he used the restroom. He also knew he could hear him too if he wanted. When Bruce first brought it up as a joke, Clark went beet red. He told him how he would purposefully not pay attention because he felt it was wrong to take advantage of his abilities like that. Bruce had expressed that it didn't really bother him, but Clark said he still wouldn't do it out of respect. Bruce figured either he was lying or he was telling the truth and just didn't find it as arousing unless he was right there.

When Bruce sat on the toilet, a loud fart came out and the sound seemed amplified by the bowl. Clark moved to get a closer look, and Bruce widened his legs to accommodate for him. Another fart, this one sputtering and wet and Bruce could feel the turd poking his anus. He went to push it out, and Clark leant in closer.

It fell into the water with a loud plop, and Bruce clenched when a tidal wave of water licked his asshole. He farted again and he could see Clark breathing in deep as he did. “Clark, before I shit all this out. I wanna try something.” Clark looked up at him, with those big blue eye of his. “Eat me out.” Clark's mouth hung open for a minute before he nodded. 

Before Bruce could wonder about the logistics of it Clark was on the floor and ushered him over his face. Bruce climbed on top of him. A fart burst from him loud and wet right into Clark's waiting mouth. He could hear Clark moan under him as his tongue worked his hole. 

Bruce wiggled and moved as he pleased knowing Clark wasn’t going to get injured by any of his ministrations. Clark doesn't even need to breath so Bruce didn't mind suffocating him with his asshole. Another gust and Clark's tongue seemed to deepen as if trying to get those pockets of air. Bruce would have to eat more beans or cabbage or something because he couldn't help but notice how Clark shuddered when ever he farted. 

Eventually he could feel the load in him by his anus again, with Clark's tongue scraping it regularly. “Clark.” Clark stopped and looked up at Bruce. He had to lean forward slightly to see him past his cock, but Clark was looking back with such yearning that Bruce kept pushing. He could see Clark's mouth working as the shit left him. He could also feel his lips moving against his hole, and he can't help but tense. Clark’s tongue is back out and licking but Bruce still tries to hold back. 

When Clark swallowed he allowed himself to push again. Another fart, this time with specs of shit go onto Clark. Again he moaned appreciatively and Bruce kept pushing. Another nugget, and Clark ate this one happily as well. “Clark I've still got a lot to go.. I don't think you should keep...” Bruce goes to pull away but Clark holds him. At this distance Bruce can see Clark’s face, his mouth smeared with brown. He doesn't say anything but he looking at Bruce again. “You’re going to eat me out and make me cum.” Clark nodded again and Bruce eased himself back onto his face.

They go like this for 10 more minutes. Clark licking at him lazily and Bruce grunting as he tried to suppress his shit. He really doesn't want Clark to keep eating it. He also doesn’t want to think about the nutritional or health implications of it. But Clark seemed intent as he was licking so slowly, and Bruce just wanted to cum and shit but nope, Clark couldn't even give him that.

“Clark, stop teasing and eat me out properly.” Bruce pulled his ass away from Clark, and he looked slightly dazed as if Bruce had just woke him up. Before he has a chance to say anything Bruce was back on him, rocking on Clark’s face. He heard Clark grunt in surprise, but Bruce just wanted to cum. He reached for Clark’s hand and placed it on his dick. Clark gave it a few lazy pulls and Bruce is moving harder. “Jerk me properly, or I’ll make every bathroom in Wayne manor lead lined.” Bruce looked down at Clark, wondering if his threat worked. He didn't have to see his face though as Clark's hand increased its pace, and his tongue was no longer just lapping and was instead diving into him.

“I knew you watched me in the bathroom, you horny bastard.” Bruce gave another blast with his ass at the same time Clark moaned, not denying it. And when he leant forward to look at his eyes, he saw guilt. “I told you Clark.” Another bluster of gas peppered with shit burst from Bruce. “I don’t mind if you watch me. Is the reason you lied because you like to think I don’t know you do it?” He ground particularly hard on Clark whilst he spoke, if Clark were human he’s positive he would have broken his nose. “That’s it isn’t it? You jerk off to me shitting and pissing in the toilet thinking I don’t know about it?” Clark just moaned, unable to talk with Bruce’s ass on his mouth, and another turd nudging its a way out. “But you prefer this, huh? Getting to taste and smell it-” And at this point his concern for Clark was non existent. “Well Clark, i’m gonna give you it.” He pushed down on the shit, not attempting to pinch it off into bits. He heard Clark cough under him, but he didn’t care. He just kept going. 

The shit that Clark couldn’t fit in his mouth overflowed out across his face and neck. Bruce kept riding him, and eventually, with a shout he came. He pinched the turd off and pulled away to sit on Clark's chest. Clark swallowed the mouthful of shit he had in his mouth and looked up at Bruce lazily. “You still gotta go.” 

Bruce nodded, attempting to get up from Clark.

“No, shit on me. Where you are. My shirt’s dirty anyway.” Bruce raised an eyebrow, but he lifts himself up slightly and with little effort he can feel the shit in him move again, but then Bruce is clenching. 

“Wait. I have an idea.” Bruce turned his position, giving Clark the perfect view of his ass. Clark gave an appreciative grunt and then Bruce is opening his fly. 

He could see Bruce's asshole open and close ever so slightly as he worked a rhythm on Clark's dick. Clark squirmed and unabashedly moaned when he sees the brown shit crowning. He can hear Bruce's grunting, and feel his muscles strain on top of him, and then the turd is falling onto him, and another one is pushing out from Bruce. He could see Bruce still has a bit in him and tried to hold himself back until Bruce was finished. Another fart and Clark is enveloped in that wonderful aroma, he wanted his nose buried in that ass again, so he could smell it more deeply but he had to settle for this, though he can’t deny the view was better. He wanted to touch it, feel Bruce's asshole. He was about to trace it with his finger, when a burst and some runny shit came from Bruce. I landed all over his face, and he moaned. “Fuck Bruce, fart again.” 

Bruce bared down harder and the runny shit burst out again and Clark's get some in his mouth, he lapped at the dots of shit. The smell was intoxicating and Clark just wanted to breath it for air.

“Fuck, fuck fuck…” Came Bruce's quiet call as the shit continued to flow out of him in small rivulets. “Fuck it burns…” Clark wanted to kiss it, sooth it, but another part of him wanted for it to increase, to see Bruce look like a fountain as he shitted. 

“Fuck!” Clark came, and Bruce is assaulted again by a burst of jizz in the eye. 

“God damn Kent work on your aim! “ Clark can't help but laugh as Bruce turned and looked at him, a frown plastered across his face, though some of the venom was lost by him having to keep his right eye closed. Clark tried to give him a ‘look who's talking’ face, but Bruce didn't seem to appreciate it.

“You still need to go?” Bruce seemed lost in thought for a moment. 

“A little.” 

Clark moved up so he was sitting up against the bath, he patted his lap and Bruce sat on it. “Use me as your toilet.” Clack says as he nibbled at Bruce’s ear. He can feel Bruce grunt and then a wetness enveloped Clark's dick. He moaned and rubbed himself against Bruce.

“You’re a really shitty toilet.” Bruce grunted, the wetness spread and Clark has to resist the urge to buck and move, but fuck if this wasn't turning him on.

“Fuck I want you to just keep shitting on me…” Clark tried not to seem too disappointed when Bruce was finished.

“Clark i'll need to shit again in 24 hours, I’m sure you can wait that long.” Bruce got up and made his way to the toilet paper holder, using a piece to wipe his face. He then turned and surveyed the damage. “Good Lord, this place-” He looked at the brown smears that seemed to be everywhere in the room, the worst victim however was Clark who was nearly covered head to two in the stuff, though Bruce could surmise he really didn’t care. “I think we need to clean up.”

Clark smiled up at him. “You think? I was planning on telling Ma we redecorated the place.” 

Bruce offered a hand to Clark, who took it and used it to pull himself up, he nearly lost his footing when he slipped on a runny patch of shit, but soon he was upright. “Whilst I think it’s sweet for you to want to renovate the house, I feel this would give your mother a heart attack.”

As soon as he said it Bruce wanted to take it back, he gave a visible wince when Clark’s smile instantly dropped. He was a fucking moron. “Clark, I’m sorry, I didn’t-” Clark held up his hand. 

“Bruce it’s fine, I know you didn’t mean to-” Clark stopped and sighed. When Bruce looked around Clark was in fresh clothes and the room was clean, whilst he himself was very much naked and dirty. “I’m gonna go do the rest of the chores, have a bath okay?” He was quiet when he spoke, and Bruce wanted to hold him. 

“Clark…” He leant forward and kissed him, careful to keep his body away from Clark. Clark seemed to be like a board underneath his lips. Eventually he kissed back, though it was gently.

Another sigh. “Bruce, really it’s fine, I shouldn’t still be getting-”

“No Clark. It was insensitive of me. You don’t say things like that about my parents, it was wrong of-” But Bruce noticed Clark was smiling again, ever so softly. 

“I accept your apology Bruce.” A kiss. “I still gotta do my chores, have a nice long bath okay? you deserve it. I’ll call you when dinner is ready.” Clark left the room and Bruce gave himself slap on the face. The water was cold on Bruce’s skin, but he felt like he deserved it. What part of his brain had thought that would have been funny? Joke about your lover’s mother having a heart attack, when said lover’s father died from one the previous year. Genius billionaire Bruce Wayne strikes again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I know it is like humanly impossible for Bruce to shit and fart that amount, but I find it hot so I've decided to take some artistic liberties. Next chapter is just angst, no real sexual content.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anggggggst.

When he felt clean he left the bathroom. Clark had left him a robe outside and Bruce slipped it on. He made his way to the kitchen, and Clark was reheating leftovers. Bruce made a face and Clark laughed. “Look Ma made so much, we still got a lot to get through. You know her, if she doesn’t come back to empty fridge and pantry she’ll think we haven’t eaten!” Bruce sat down and watched Clark potter around the kitchen. He had limited experience with people in kitchens, but he knew Alfred was slow and methodical, moving around the kitchen with practiced grace. Martha barged her way around, using her hips to close draws and singing loudly and off tune to what ever was on the radio. Bruce found Clark was a mixture of the two, if Martha was more controlled, or if Alfred let loose a bit. He liked how Clark seemed at home in the kitchen, even if he was just reheating and putting food onto plates. 

When they ate it was in silence, Bruce wanted to talk but he still felt not enough time had past to make the conversation anything less than strained and awkward. “Did you like today?” Clark asked suddenly, Bruce stopped chewing the bite he was eating to regard him. “I mean, did you, you know enjoy it? You didn’t seem…” Clark blushed as if saying the words ‘turned on’ or ‘aroused’ was too much. Bruce didn’t want to say he still had a piece of shit in his nose. He did anyway and Clark’s face reddened further as he wiped it with a napkin.

“It felt nice to just go, the holdings more for your sake.” Bruce said as he reached for the carrot on Clark’s plate, Martha’s carrots were something you couldn’t just give Bruce a few of. “You eating me out was also nice.” Clark smiled at that. “You should do that more.” Bruce said nonchalantly. Clark gave a throaty laugh.

“Bruce if I could I would worship that ass of yours every minute of every day.” Clark is looking at Bruce with such fervor Bruce was taken aback.

“You know my dick would get jealous if you did that…” He’s said calmly as he took another bite, trying to ignore his burgeoning erection. 

Clark was edging towards him. “Well I would hate for that to happen…” And then a hand is on Bruce’s crotch, and the fabric of the dressing gown is being pushed aside, but then Clark’s hand stilled. “What? She’s early…” Clark was getting up and moving to the window. “Fuck.” Bruce gave a look around and saw a lot of things had been moved, when he blinked again he was in his room with some clothes in a pile on his lap. “Get dressed, I still got chores to do. Ma will have my guts for garters if I don’t-” but Clark is gone, and Bruce is left in his room (which was now spotless may he add.) He could hear the washing machine being turned on, and Bruce got dressed at a leisurely pace. Once done, he looked out of the window to the red truck making its way towards the house. The car honked its horn and Bruce made his way downstairs. Clark was in the living room, looking far too disheveled. Bruce fixed his hair, and Clark thanked him before they made their way outside. “Ma!” Clark called. 

“How are my boys?” She asked as she exited the car. She hugged Clark, and Bruce stood looking over the car with mock interest. Martha was soon hugging him as well and Bruce could feel the air get pushed from his lungs. “I heard a storm was meant to hit tomorrow and I didn’t want to drive home in it. I tried to call but you must have been out working.”

Clark made a face. “Sorry Ma, don’t know why I didn’t hear it…” Clark tried to look like he was genuinely confused, but Bruce knew perfectly well why he hadn't heard it. Martha was smarter than she let on and rolled her eyes before winking at Bruce. Clark was busy taking her bags out of the car, Bruce offered to help but Martha laughed. 

“Boy, he’s got super strength, I may carry everything bar the kitchen sink in my bags, but I’m sure he can handle it.” She slapped his arm in jest and Clark stuck his tongue out at him as he walked into the house. Bruce and Martha followed after. 

“Did you boys have fun? It’s good for you to be getting some fresh air. Gotham and Metropolis are nice, but nothing beats country air.” Martha was at the kitchen table, and saw the dinner plates. “Oh boys, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your meal.” 

Clark scoffed. “Ma it’s fine. Really. Me and Bruce were nearly finished anyhow. Did you want me to get you a plate?” Ma shook her head. 

“Naw, it’s fine honey. I ate before I left Brenda’s.” She stretched her back and an audible click sounded. “If anything I think I’m gonna head off to bed. Driving really takes it out of me.”

Clark looked sullen. “Ma I told you I don’t mind flying you if-”

Martha held up her hand. “And I told you I am not an old biddy, I can handle myself Clark.” Clark dropped it, but Bruce can see how tense he was. His shoulders squared and lips drawn tight. It may have been the lighting but he could also have sworn his eyes looked shinier. Martha sighed. “I’ve had a long day honey, I’ll see you in the morning okay?” She walked to Clark and kissed him once on the check, Clark seemed lost as he was pulled down and kissed, Martha then walked past Bruce as she left the room, giving him the gentlest hug he had ever received from her. 

He heard the door shut and when he looked over to Clark he still had that lost look on his face. “She’s 70 Bruce.” He said as if it answered every question. Clark didn’t say anything else as he cleaned the plates and put them away. Bruce doesn’t know what to do with himself and stood and watched Clark. As he worked he could see some of the tension leaving him. 

“Are we leaving tonight or?” Bruce asked. Clark turned.

“I was gonna wait till morning, Ma would be annoyed if we left now without a proper goodbye.” Bruce nodded and then Clark was leaving the room, Bruce followed after him. They end up in the bedroom. In bed Clark faced away from him, and despite Bruce snaking his arms around him he still seemed stiff. 

“Clark.” Bruce said softly, ghosting the word across his back. He peppered kisses, and eventually Clark turned over to face him, tears slowly streaking across his face.

“She’s 70 Bruce.” He said again, broken and harsh, as if he were spitting glass. Bruce muttered ‘I knows’ and ‘It’s okays’, as Clark repeated the phrase, again and again.

“I don’t want to think about… What if one day… I wouldn’t be able… She could just… Too much….” He was speaking in Kryptonian and Bruce is muttering back in his laughable accent, hoping Clark appreciated the sentiment. “She’s old… Think young… Not her… Not again…” Clark sat up. 

“I don’t want her to die.” He says suddenly. Bruce made a face he hoped Clark wouldn’t take offence to. 

“Clark… It’s part of life. People-.”

“Humans.”

Bruce frowned. “Huh?”

“Humans die. Pa died, Ma will die, and one day you’ll-” A fresh stream of tears flowed from him, and Bruce was taken aback.

He sat up himself and held Clark tight. “Clark, I’m not going anywhere any time soon.” 

A broken laugh. “But one day, you will. And I’ll be-” He thought for a minute. “What will happen to me?” He looked at his hands as though they belonged to someone else. “Will I die or will I…?” He rubbed his hands into his eyes. “I’m scared.” Bruce could offer nothing other than his embrace. Death was something Bruce knew, understood. He had to deal with it early on in his life. Clark wasn’t used to loss. Bruce felt a wash of guilt over himself as he thought of all the times he felt glad was Clark was superhuman, Clark probably hated himself for it sometimes. 

“I think the thing that bothers me so much though…” Clark began, and Bruce rubbed soothing circles into his back. “I heard it. When his heart stopped. I heard it, and when I got there it was too late. Even with super speed. I was too late. Even I can’t prevent death.” Clark seemed to get drowsier as he spoke, he lay back down on the mattress and Bruce followed him. “I’m gonna hear you and Ma die one day and I won’t be able to stop it.” Clark nuzzled into Bruce’s neck. “I don’t…” But he was gone. Bruce could hear his breathing shift as he fell into sleep.

He kept holding onto him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who ordered the gross fetish porn with angst on the side? no one? okay, i'll just bury myself in the ground it's fine... Anyway that's it for this installment. I'm working on the next fic already so that should be up soonish. Thank for reading my lovelies. ;)


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